


Locked Together

by mikkimouse



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: (kind of), Anal Sex, Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Established Relationship, Fluff, Kink Negotiation, Locking, Other, Porn with Feelings, Top Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:20:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21664342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikkimouse/pseuds/mikkimouse
Summary: Crowley wants to try something new in the bedroom. Aziraphale is more than happy to oblige him.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 54
Kudos: 376





	Locked Together

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kedreeva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kedreeva/gifts).



> One of the unexpected benefits of being in the Ace Omens server is [Kedreeva](https://kedreeva.tumblr.com/) randomly dropping interesting animal trivia in the NSFW channels. Upon finding out about locking, which is essentially the snake version of knotting (different mechanism, but same general goal), I promptly lost my shit and also promised her I would write a locking fic. Because if there's anything I'm here for, it's a way for my OTP to have sexy funtimes (fun sexytimes?) and then cuddle. A lot.
> 
> So here, I bestow upon you six thousand words of tooth-rotting fluff and smut and cuddles.
> 
> Unbeta'd, and also the first actual smut I've written in like two years. XD

Crowley was nervous. 

Well, Aziraphale supposed he didn't actually _know_ Crowley was nervous, but the demon had been fidgety ever since he'd walked into the bookshop. He'd been ambling through the shelves, picking books up and leafing through them before putting them down again, poking at the little curios Aziraphale had sitting around, and muttering under his breath. It should not have been terribly distracting—Aziraphale had long ago learned to tune out minor disruptions of that sort—but Crowley was so very _good_ at being distracting. 

After another five minutes of this nonsense, Aziraphale set aside the book he'd been perusing and addressed it directly. "Crowley, what on _earth_ is going on?"

Crowley startled and jerked his hand away from the statue he'd been prodding. "Huh? What makes you think something's going on?" 

Aziraphale sighed. "Because you haven't stopped moving for more than twenty seconds since you got to the shop, and that usually means you have something on your mind. What is it?" 

"Nothing!" 

Aziraphale did not believe that for a moment. "Has something happened?" 

Crowley made a face. "What? No." 

"So you haven't been contacted by..." Aziraphale trailed off and angled his head downward. "You know. Downstairs?" 

"Pfft." Crowley waved the question away. "Like they'd contact me after that stunt you pulled." 

"That _we_ pulled," Aziraphale reminded him. "And don't change the subject. If that's not what's troubling you, what is?" A new thought occurred to him and he froze. "Is it about _us?_ "

They had not really been an "us" for very long. Oh, certainly, they had been friends for millennia and on their own side for centuries, but after Armageddon hadn't happened, they had become something else. Something that involved their usual lunches and dinners and visits to the theater, but also included gentle kisses and holding hands and sharing a bed more often than not. 

Aziraphale had found he rather liked being an "us," and he was suddenly very concerned that Crowley, perhaps, did not. And Crowley's continued silence did not inspire confidence. "Have I done something to upset you, my dear?" 

"No!" Crowley wheeled around and knelt in front of him. "No, nothing like that. It's just—" He stood back up just long enough to collapse onto the sofa. "Just."

"Just?" Aziraphale repeated when no additional explanation seemed to be forthcoming. 

Crowley leaned back against the sofa with an arm draped over the back of it, looking like he was very much trying to portray a calm, collected air when nothing could be further from the truth. "I've been thinking. We've been together for a while—" 

"Is six months really a while?" Aziraphale asked. They were immortal; it didn't _feel_ like very long to him, but he could be mistaken. Perhaps Crowley thought it was a while. 

"I was referring to the _millennia_ we've known each other," Crowley said dryly. 

"Oh," Aziraphale said. "But we weren't really _together_ then, were we? Together-together? Not like we are now, obviously, but—" 

"There's something I want to try the next time we have sex," Crowley burst out, the whole sentence jumping forth in one go, fast enough that it took Aziraphale a second to process. 

"The next time we... _oh!_ " He laughed, outrageously relieved. "Oh, there's something you want to try in the bedroom. Thank heavens. I was worried you wanted to break up with me." 

"Break—Aziraphale, I've been half in love with you since _Eden_ , d'you really think I'd break up with you? _Ever?_ " 

Aziraphale shifted in his seat. "Well, there's a difference between wanting something and actually getting to have it. You could have decided it's, I don't know, boring now that it isn't forbidden." 

Crowley looked at him, face impossibly soft even behind his dark glasses. "You're never boring. Not to me." 

Aziraphale's face heated, and he glanced away, struggling to hide his smile. Or at least rein it in a bit. "So there was something you wanted to try?" 

Crowley glanced away again, focusing more on the books around them even though Aziraphale knew they couldn't possibly interest him in the least. "Er. Yes." 

"Well, there's no need to be nervous about it!" Aziraphale said encouragingly. Admittedly, he was still relieved Crowley didn't want to end their relationship, so he was perhaps more encouraging than usual. "I'm open to anything. Well, almost anything. If it's important to you to try, then I'm open to it. And really, it _can't_ be stranger than that position we tried last week." 

Crowley was watching him again, a small, fond smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Are you really sure about that?" 

At that, Aziraphale frowned. "Well, now my curiosity is thoroughly piqued. What is it that you want to try, my dear?" 

Crowley sat forward, adjusted his jacket, and then sat back against the sofa again, fingers picking at a tattered thread on the back. "Don't suppose you've ever heard of locking, have you?" 

No, Aziraphale could honestly say that he had not. At least, not in the context of the bedroom, which is how he imagined Crowley meant it. "I gather you don't mean locking up the shop." 

Crowley smirked a little. "No." 

Aziraphale racked his brain, trying to think if he'd come across the term in his many years of researching human sexual customs, but he couldn't recall. "I'm afraid I haven't, then. Is it a new thing the humans are doing?" 

"Humans? No." At that, Crowley actually blushed, the color of his cheeks darkening to a crimson that nearly matched his hair. "It's, well. I...It's a snake thing." 

" _Oh!_ " Aziraphale sat back. "Well, then no wonder I haven't heard of it. I'm afraid I haven't spent much time researching serpent mating habits. Although now that I'm considering it, perhaps I should have." That was a serious lapse in judgement on his part. "I _am_ sorry." 

Crowley shook his head. "It's fine." He smirked again, although this time it was closer to a leer. "As you can see, it's not _entirely_ necessary for us to have a good time." 

Aziraphale flicked a speck of dust from his trousers. "True though that may be, it's clearly something important to you, if you're this nervous to bring it up. Tell me about it." 

Crowley hesitated. "You might not like it." 

"I find it difficult to believe I will wholeheartedly dislike the idea," Aziraphale said. "I have yet to find anything that I don't enjoy doing with you." 

"Driving," Crowley pointed out. 

Aziraphale shot him a sharp look. "That is _entirely_ unrelated. Please, Crowley. Will you just tell me what it is?" 

Crowley sighed deeply and went back to looking around the bookshop, like he couldn't quite bring himself to meet Aziraphale's gaze. "Well, it's not _all_ snakes, obviously. Many different species. But. Erm. Lots of males have, uh. Spikes. On their. Y'know." He gestured in the area of his trousers. "There." 

"It's a penis, Crowley," Aziraphale said dryly. 

Crowley blushed darker, if that were somehow possible. "Yes. There." 

"So what purpose do the spikes serve?" Aziraphale asked, as if he were asking Crowley what kind of tea he would prefer. "I imagine they aren't particularly _sharp_ , or else it wouldn't be very comfortable for the female snake." 

"Ahh, no, not until they get, uh, _inside_ , y'know?" Crowley was perhaps as red as Aziraphale had ever seen him. "And then they're sharper. To help them, y'know. Hold on."

"Do snakes mate in a particularly aggressive way?" Aziraphale asked. 

"No?" Crowley frowned. "No, the holding on is for uh. Making sure they have the best chance for their genetic material to be passed on. And then they stay tied together for...some time." 

"And just how long is 'some time'?" Aziraphale asked. 

"...hours." 

"Hours?!" 

Crowley winced. "Or days." 

_"Days?!"_ Aziraphale drew back. "Goodness, that poor female snake. I should hope she doesn't have anything else to do." 

Crowley made a face and drew in on himself. "Forget it. It's fine." 

"No, no, Crowley." Aziraphale stood and joined him on the sofa. "You startled me, that's all. I wasn't expecting it to be that long. I'm not saying no. Unless your intention is to get me pregnant. Then I _am_ saying no." 

Crowley buried his face in his hands. " _No_ , Aziraphale, I don't want to get you pregnant. I don't think we _can_ get each other pregnant." 

"We likely could if we tried," Aziraphale said, and then let it go. "But that's neither here nor there. What aspects of this...locking do you want to do?" 

Crowley dropped his hands between his knees and rubbed them together. He still did not look back up at Aziraphale. "Well, most of it, I suppose. I mean, the whole act of it, without the genetic material bits." 

"So you want to be locked into me the next time we have sex," Aziraphale said. 

"Not necessarily _next_ time," Crowley said. "Just, y'know. At some point. If that's something you think you'd like." 

It was a bit strange, but only insofar as anything mortal was strange. Humans had come up with a truly astounding number of ways to copulate, and when one extended that to the rest of the animal kingdom, the sky was the limit, as it were. "So you would like to grow little spikes on your penis and stay inside me for several days, is that right? Or would you prefer the reverse?" 

Crowley's face went right back down into his hands, and this time, Aziraphale heard a muttered plea for someone to smite him.

Aziraphale huffed. "Well, it was _your_ idea." 

"Yes, I'm very aware," Crowley said, his voice muffled. 

"Well, which is it?" 

"Why?" 

"Because goodness, Crowley, I'd like to know what I'm getting into." Aziraphale frowned and considered the logistics of such a thing. "I suppose I'll have to close up the shop for a week." 

"A _week?!_ " Crowley jerked back. "No, angel, it's only a couple of days at most. And I was thinking two or three _hours_. I mean, I can probably go for days, but we've never done it before and it's, y'know, probably better to ease into." 

"Oh!" Well, that required _much_ less planning than being tied together— _locked_ together—for a week or more. Aziraphale was very relieved. "That's good. Would we actually be having sex for the entirety of this time, or is it just the physically lying together?" 

"Just the lying together," Crowley said. "I don't know if I'd be much good for anything, but I imagine you could get yourself off again. If you wanted to." 

Aziraphale considered. The idea did hold some appeal. "So just to be clear, you would like to be locked into me?" 

Crowley nodded. 

"For two or three hours?" 

Another nod. 

Really, as far as sexual requests went, this was practically tame compared to some of the things Aziraphale had come across in his reading. "And would I need to make an effort in an, er, different direction, as it were?" 

Crowley shook his head. "Only if you wanted to. I can work with you either way." 

"Oh, that's good." Aziraphale had tried both and had found that, generally, he preferred a penis to anything else. "Well, in that case, when would you like to do it?" 

Now, _now_ , Crowley finally looked over at him. "You really want to?" he asked hesitantly. 

Goodness. Aziraphale reached over and touched the edge of his glasses. "May I?" 

Crowley bent his head forward in a silent assent, and Aziraphale pulled the dark glasses off and set them on the back of the sofa. He cupped Crowley's face so he could look right into those lovely golden eyes that so rarely blinked. "Crowley, my dearest heart, I love you. I want to make you happy. Of course I would like to try something that clearly matters so much to you." 

Crowley leaned into his touch. "What if you don't like it?" 

"I highly doubt I'll dislike being forced to stay in bed snuggling with you for two or three hours," Aziraphale said. "But if I don't, then we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Just as we would with anything else."

Crowley turned his face slightly, just enough to kiss the palm of Aziraphale's hand. "Thank you, angel." 

Aziraphale pulled him closer to kiss him properly on the lips, and then kissed him again more deeply, because he did so enjoy kissing Crowley. Crowley sighed a little and opened his mouth, and his hands slid up Aziraphale's back and over his waistcoat, not with any intention of taking it further, but just with the intention of touching where for so long they hadn't been allowed. 

Aziraphale leaned back, taking Crowley with him, and the last thing he noticed outside of them was the soft snap of Crowley's fingers to lock the shop's front door and draw the blinds closed.

***

"Aziraphale," Crowley said patiently, "it's going to be for two hours, not two days." 

Aziraphale ignored the reprimand and continued reviewing the snacks he'd stocked in the small refrigerator by the bed. "I did some reading and apparently snakes get hungry when they're locked together. I don't know if you will, but I'd rather have plenty of food so that we're not snapping at each other out of hunger." 

"We could always miracle it up," Crowley reminded him. 

Aziraphale drew back, scandalized. "But Crowley, you _know_ it doesn't taste the same." 

Crowley raised his hands in surrender. "Fine. But you're really making a bigger deal out of this than it ought to be." 

Aziraphale finished his review and, satisfied with the number and variety of snacks he'd chosen, closed the minifridge and stood up. "I am making as precisely as big of a deal as it is." 

Crowley arched an eyebrow. 

Aziraphale sniffed. "Oh, you know what I mean. I want this to go _well_. Of course I've prepared." 

Crowley shook his head and closed the distance between them, taking Aziraphale by the elbows. "I still say you're making too big of a deal. But," he leaned closer and kissed Aziraphale's cheek, "thank you," another kiss, this one closer to his temple, "angel." 

_Really_ , as if Aziraphale wouldn't do everything in his considerable power to make Crowley happy. He turned his head and rubbed his cheek against Crowley's. "My dear, the list of miracles you've done to keep me happy is so long it would wrap around the entire planet twice if we wrote it all out," he murmured. "There is absolutely no such thing as 'too big of a deal' when it comes to you." 

At that, Crowley's arms slid from his elbows to his back, wrapping him in a hug, and Aziraphale quite happily returned it, burying his face in Crowley's neck. 

They stayed there for some time, just holding each other. Aziraphale closed his eyes and settled into it. He loved this, loved being with Crowley, loved being able to _show_ his affections without reservation. He would happily spend a hundred years just like this, simply standing together as they were now. How could Crowley even consider that Aziraphale would say no to a few hours of the same in bed? 

Which was, well, what they were _here_ for, so they probably ought to get on with it soon. 

He kissed Crowley's neck, and then rather reluctantly pulled away. "Shall we go to bed?" 

Crowley groaned and kissed him fiercely, enough that Aziraphale briefly forgot almost everything but his own name. There was only Crowley, in his mouth and in his arms and in his life, holding him so tightly it was as though he feared one of them would disappear if he relaxed his grip. 

Aziraphale opened up for him eagerly, letting Crowley inside him, and his hands found their way up into Crowley's hair, where he could scratch his nails through the soft red strands. 

Crowley shivered and backed them up until Aziraphale's legs hit the bed behind them. 

"We should probably undress first," Aziraphale said. "It'll be a bit easier while we're still standing." 

Crowley raised his hand to snap his fingers, and Aziraphale covered them before he could miracle their clothes away. 

"It's faster," Crowley argued. 

Aziraphale pushed Crowley's jacket down his arms and nibbled the sensitive spot on his neck. "And this is more _fun_." 

It was a well-worn argument by now. Perhaps not as well-worn as so many of theirs, which had gone on for centuries at this point, but this one had cropped up nearly every time they'd had sex in the past six months. Crowley liked to get straight to the main event as quickly as possible; Aziraphale preferred to take his time with it. Not surprising, given their own personal predilections, but it did require some finagling to find a solution they both enjoyed. Sometimes they went fast, sometimes they went slow, but it was all about spending time together. 

Aziraphale took off Crowley's jacket, scarf, and waistcoat, tossing them haphazardly in the direction of a chair rather than taking the time to stop and fold them as he normally did. He ran his hands over Crowley's chest before his fingers found their way to the buttons.

"You just like using this as an excuse to get your hands on me," Crowley accused, an indulgent smile on his face. 

"Well, yes." Aziraphale kissed the corner of that smile. "That is entirely the point, that I get to touch you everywhere." 

Crowley kissed his cheek in response. "We're going to be touching for two hours."

"Then I will get to touch you _more_." Aziraphale rested his palm on the small span of Crowley's chest revealed by the half-buttoned shirt. "Do you really think I have a limit on how much I can touch you?" 

"You have a limit on how much you can eat, angel." 

"You are so much better than any meal, dearest." 

Crowley groaned and kissed him again, in the way which Aziraphale had learned meant _you're saying too many kind things and I can't handle hearing anymore_. That was all right; he didn't need words to tell Crowley how he felt. He could do it with the touch of his fingers and with his lips and his tongue, with the way he welcomed Crowley into him and said _yes, yes, my dear, all of it. All of you._  
  
He divested Crowley of the rest of his clothes much more quickly, adding them to the pile on the chair and steadfastly ignoring the little voice in the back of his head that told him they needed to be folded properly. 

Crowley laughed, just a bare hint of mirth into their kiss, and then snapped his fingers and the clothes rearranged themselves into a neatly folded stack. 

"Thank you," Aziraphale said with no small amount of feeling. 

Crowley was still smiling. "I had a feeling that would annoy you for the rest of the evening otherwise."

"I would have been fine," Aziraphale said primly. "Just...probably would've done it myself once we were settled in." 

"Mm-hmm." 

Once he had Crowley down to his pants and undershirt, Aziraphale turned his attention to his own clothes. Crowley did not help, but just watched him. Aziraphale didn't need to see his eyes to know Crowley's gaze was roving over him, following his fingers as he took off his own clothes and set them out of the way. 

"You could help," Aziraphale pointed out as he set his shirt aside. 

Crowley shook his head minutely. "You're the one who wanted to do it the slow way. Besides," his tongue darted out, licking his lips, "I like to watch." 

Aziraphale knew that, just as he knew Crowley hadn't blinked in the last several minutes, just as he knew from the prickle of heat on his skin where Crowley was looking. 

Much as he enjoyed savoring, Aziraphale found himself getting impatient to continue, and he finished undressing with much more alacrity than he'd been employing. 

He sat on the bed and pulled Crowley to him, with every intention of pulling him all the way down, but Crowley resisted. "Other way, angel. On your stomach, not your back." 

"Other..." Aziraphale frowned. "But I like looking at you when we're having sex." 

Crowley's cheeks turned red. "I know. But it'll probably be a _little_ more comfortable to be spooning, rather than having me on top of you for two hours." 

Aziraphale made a face, even though he could see the logic in the argument. "Fine, but next time we're doing it the other way." 

Crowley leaned over him, not quite close enough to kiss but close enough to tease. "You don't even know if you'll like it this time." 

Aziraphale sniffed. "Don't be absurd. And I'd like to see you naked before I turn around." 

Crowley smiled indulgently once more and snapped his fingers, and his undershirt, pants, and glasses all vanished, leaving just...Crowley, long and lean and golden-eyed and so very beautiful. 

Aziraphale shifted forward to nuzzle his stomach, and then kissed his way over to Crowley's belly button. The muscles there contracted as he did, hardening under his touch, and Crowley hissed. "You're a bastard." 

Aziraphale looked up and set his chin on Crowley's stomach. "I love you." 

Months now they'd been saying it to each other—well, Aziraphale had been saying it with words; Crowley said it with deeds more often than not—and yet Crowley's eyes still went wide, a faint look of disbelief crossing his features for the briefest second. 

"I love you," Aziraphale said again, running his hands up Crowley's sides. He'd get Crowley used to hearing it at some point. "I love you so very much, my dear."

The blush went all the way down Crowley's neck to the middle of his chest, and he pushed Aziraphale back on the bed and silenced him with a kiss. Aziraphale wound his arms around Crowley's neck and rocked their bodies together, whispered the words again when Crowley gasped and broke the kiss. 

Crowley drew back and Aziraphale reluctantly let go and rolled over to his hands and knees, positioning himself on the bed where it would be easiest to lie down comfortably once they were locked together. Crowley rested one warm palm against his bare shoulder and kissed the middle of his back, and Aziraphale sighed at the tenderness of both. Even if he personally preferred to watch Crowley's face whenever they were intimate, there was something to be said for this, for the way Crowley touched him when he _wasn't_ seen, as if that removed a barrier and allowed him to be freer with showing how he felt. 

Crowley rested his forehead on Aziraphale's back, and a hot, shaky breath skimmed across his skin. "Are you ready, angel?" 

Aziraphale snapped his fingers to get ready and wiggled a little. "I'm ready whenever you are, my dear." 

Crowley trailed a line of gentle kisses down his spine, and then the warmth of his mouth vanished and was replaced by the warmth of his hands on Aziraphale's hips. The head of his cock pressed against Aziraphale's ass, stretching him in that lovely way it always did, and Aziraphale did not hold back on his moan of pleasure. 

Crowley paused. "Is that okay?" 

" _Yes_ , yes, for heaven's sake, Crowley, don't stop." 

Crowley, thankfully, started moving again and didn't stop until he was all the way inside. Aziraphale sighed at the feeling of fullness and shifted his hips experimentally. "I didn't feel any spikes." 

"Not yet," Crowley said. "I wanted to fuck you a little first." 

_That_ sounded very nice. "Only a little?" 

Crowley slid a fraction of an inch out and then back in. "Maybe more than a little." 

Aziraphale shivered at the sensation. "Fuck me as much as you want." 

Crowley was, as always, as good as his word. The incremental thrusts he'd started with got longer, but not much faster or harder, as though he wanted this to last as long as Aziraphale did. And he _touched_ , oh, he touched so much. He ran his hands down Aziraphale's thighs, then back up to his hips, up and over his back and sides and belly, all the way up to his shoulders and down his arms, like he was trying to touch everywhere he could reach and couldn't get enough of any of it. _That_ was more arousing than anything he was doing with his cock. 

Aziraphale arched into the touch, whimpering with how much he craved it, and then Crowley leaned over and kissed the back of his neck, right at his hairline. It sent an utterly delightful shiver through him—although no, not a shiver; this was something sharper, a heat that prickled along and under Aziraphale's skin, radiating out from where Crowley's lips touched him. Once upon a time, he'd thought it was something demonic; now he was certain it was just the way his body responded to Crowley. Wanting him, wanting more, so utterly aware and sensitive to everything he did. 

"You're so beautiful, angel," Crowley whispered into his neck, and the words had the very same effect that the kisses had. "Thank you for this." 

And _oh_ , Aziraphale wanted to kiss him then, wanted to pull Crowley into him and tell him without words how much he loved him, but if they were facing each other, he was not entirely sure Crowley would have said any of it. "Oh, my dear, my dearest." Aziraphale leaned his head back. "I love you. More than words can say, I love you." 

Crowley exhaled sharply, his breath a hot burst over Aziraphale's skin, and then he reached around and wrapped his hand around Aziraphale's cock and stroked. 

Aziraphale cried out and jerked forward into the touch, but then Crowley loosened his grip and stopped moving. "Oh, damn you."

Crowley chuckled. "Bit too late for that, I think." 

Aziraphale grumbled under his breath. "Very well. Let go and _I'll_ handle it." 

Crowley huffed and took Aziraphale in hand again, and this time, he did not stop. He stroked _maddeningly_ slowly, enough to drive Aziraphale to distraction, but at least he was moving. And the stroking was a truly delicious counterpoint to the way Crowley was fucking him. 

Orgasms, Aziraphale had learned over the years, were wonderful things. Admittedly, he'd never understood why humans would go to such lengths to _get_ them, especially when they were perfectly capable of achieving climax by themselves and had, in fact, invented an _astonishing_ number of devices to help them do so. 

But there was something about doing this with Crowley, about having Crowley's hand on his cock and Crowley's mouth on his neck, that made this preferable to just about any other kind of sex Aziraphale had had. 

He did not try to hold back his release; he chased it, urging Crowley faster as best he could. Even so, it took him by surprise when it happened, a sudden crest as he spilled with a soft cry, Crowley's name on his lips. 

Crowley stroked him through it, even as Aziraphale's arms gave out and he dropped to his elbows on the bed, his entire body shaking as he came down from the high. 

Crowley thrust inside him again, pressed so deeply it was just on the edge of painful, and then he collapsed on Aziraphale's back, breathing heavily. 

Aziraphale shifted his hips forward, only to find that he was held fast. He didn't slide along Crowley's cock even a fraction of an inch. 

_Oh_. "Are we locked now?" he asked. 

"Hng," Crowley said, his voice partially muffled by Aziraphale's back. 

That sounded affirmative. Aziraphale shifted his hips again, wondering at the new sensation. Well, it wasn't particularly _new_ , in all honesty; he had had Crowley's cock in him many times at this point (and vice versa), but this was the first time he had not been able to move with it. It was interesting. Kind of enjoyable, actually. 

He wiggled again, testing the movement. Oh, yes, that _was_ nice. He remembered what Crowley had said about bringing himself off while they were tied together; he would have to try that a bit later. 

Crowley whined behind him, sweaty forehead pressed into Aziraphale's back. "Stop. Moving." 

"Oh." Aziraphale froze. "I'm sorry. Did I hurt you, my dear?"

Crowley shook his head. "Sensitive. And." He panted. "Close."

"Close?!" Aziraphale turned his head to look at Crowley, although given their positioning, he still couldn't see him. "Crowley, you haven't come yet?" 

"Couldn't before I locked," Crowley said. He sounded as breathless as if he'd run a marathon. "Haven't done this before. Didn't know it was going to be like this." 

"Like this?" Aziraphale hesitated. "Is this...good?" 

Crowley groaned. "Oh _fuck_ so good." 

Well, that was something of a relief. Aziraphale's legs trembled, and he realized he was going to have to move sooner rather than later. "I think I need to lie down. Will you be all right?" 

Crowley swore against his skin. "Go slow." 

Aziraphale did, gradually lowering himself to the bed and then rolling them both to the side. Crowley clung to his back like a monkey, panting hard and making incoherent noises with virtually every movement they made. 

Aziraphale did his best to situate them both without moving his lower body; he pulled a pillow closer for their heads and fluffed it as best he could, and then miracled away the mess he'd made on the sheets. "Is there anything I can get you?" 

Crowley pressed his forehead firmly into the back of Aziraphale's neck and shook his head. "Hng. No. 'M good." 

Aziraphale reached back to pat his head, and then decided it was easier to pat Crowley's arms where they were locked around his chest. "Very well. If you do need anything, let me know." He considered. "Would you like to come now?" 

Crowley's whole body shuddered. "Not sure if I can." 

"Oh, well, I'm sure we can find out." Aziraphale rolled his hips very, very gently as a test. "How was that?" 

Crowley's response was a very high-pitched and thready " _Fuck_."

"Would you like me to do it again?" 

"Yes," Crowley said after a long moment. 

Aziraphale hesitated. "Are you sure?" 

Crowley's arms tightened around his chest. " _Yessss_." 

Aziraphale moved again, just as gently as he had the first time, trying to gauge from Crowley's whimpering whether it had been too much or just enough. Since Crowley did not tell him to stop, Aziraphale continued moving, although he was careful not to do so too quickly or with too much force. It felt rather good on his end as well, although given the way Crowley clutched at him and swore, this was nothing compared to how it felt for Crowley. 

Aziraphale rubbed the arm across his chest soothingly. "Are you close, my dear?" 

Crowley whined and muttered something incoherent. 

"Shall I keep going?" 

Another incoherent mumble. 

"Crowley, if you can't answer me properly, I'm going to have to stop," Aziraphale said severely. 

" _Fuck_ , if you stop you'll kill me." 

"Well, we can't have _that_ , can we?" Aziraphale said, and moved his hips a little faster. 

Crowley let out a wordless sob and jerked against him, and the only words Aziraphale could make out were "yes" and "please" and " _angel_." He did not stop moving until Crowley begged for it. 

" _Stop_ , stop, fuck, stop, 's too much, 's too much." 

Aziraphale froze and tentatively reached behind him, brushing fingers lightly through Crowley's sweaty hair. "Too much?" 

Crowley nodded, panting hotly against Aziraphale's back. "Too much. Ssssso good. But too much." 

Aziraphale continued petting him as best he could until Crowley's breathing slowed and evened out a bit more. Not quite enough for him to be asleep, no, but enough that he'd almost certainly come down from the orgasm high. 

"Fuck," Crowley said again after several minutes of silence. "That was. Hng. Hoshit." 

"Good, I hope?" Aziraphale asked. 

"Mm-hmm." Crowley nuzzled into his neck. " _Very_ good." 

Aziraphale patted his arm; it was much easier to pat Crowley's arm in this position than any other part of him. "Better than an ordinary climax, by the sound of it?" 

"Dunno about better." Crowley kissed his neck lazily. "More intense, for sure. Couldn't do that all the time. 'M not gonna have brains left." 

Aziraphale considered their respective refractory periods. Well, unaltered refractory periods, anyway. "Could you do it again, do you think? At some point in the next two hours, I mean." 

Crowley didn't answer for a very long time. "Probably," he said slowly. "Why?" 

"Oh, just curious," Aziraphale said. "It might be fun to figure out just how many times we can orgasm while we're locked together like this. Although I imagine if we used our miracles, that number would be much higher." 

Crowley groaned. "Angel, if you make me go through that for two hours straight, I'm going to need a whole _year_ to recover." 

Aziraphale hummed contemplatively. 

Crowley hissed a little. "That wasn't a suggesssstion!" 

"Of course not," Aziraphale said. "But it is an intriguing thought, don't you agree?" He traced idle patterns over Crowley's arm. "A bit like...oh, what _is_ the name of that kink? Cornering?"

Crowley shook behind him, as though he were holding in laughter. "I think you mean _edging_." 

"Oh, yes, that! It would be a bit like that, wouldn't it?" 

"Haven't done it," Crowley said. "Couldn't guess. Don't suppose you thought to stock some drinks in that fridge of yours?" 

Aziraphale snapped his fingers and retrieved bottles of water for both of them. "Of course I did." 

Crowley snorted and took the bottle. "Won't miracle it here, but you'll miracle it out of the fridge." 

"I told you, it tastes better when it's real, and it's much easier just to move it five feet over," Aziraphale said. "If it bothers you, I can always take it back and you can miracle _yourself_ some water." 

Crowley wiggled his other arm out from under Aziraphale. "Bastard," he said lovingly. 

Aziraphale preened under the compliment.

***

The two hours passed surprisingly quickly and quite companionably. Crowley drank water like he was a fish and ate a lot more than Aziraphale had thought he would; perhaps holding the lock took more out of him than regular sex. Aziraphale, for his part, nibbled on some cheese and grapes and read a couple of chapters in one of his new books while Crowley dozed behind him. That particular quiet interlude lasted about half an hour before Crowley woke back up, whimpering, and Aziraphale put his book away so that he could put his full focus on ensuring that Crowley climaxed again. 

(He did, twice more, sobbing into Aziraphale's back each time.)

Aziraphale, for his own part, took himself in hand just once to see if the sensation was markedly different than it was when he and Crowley usually had sex. It was not, although it still felt absolutely decadent, even more so when Crowley decided to lend his own hand to the effort as well. Even if Aziraphale's preference remained to have them face to face when they had sex, it was certainly worth it to have Crowley's hand on his cock while Crowley kissed along his neck and whispered lovely words. 

By the time Crowley slipped out of him, Aziraphale didn't even bother to conceal his groan of disappointment. 

Crowley laughed weakly. "So was it good for you?" 

Aziraphale rolled over and ran his hand over Crowley's chest, relishing the sensation of being able to see him properly again. "Mm, very good. I do enjoy getting to spend hours in bed with you." 

Crowley's mouth twitched up in a small smile, his golden eyes half-lidded. "Even when you can't move otherwise?" 

Aziraphale took his hand and kissed the knuckles, working his way across each finger. "Maybe especially then." He paused in what he was doing. "Was it what you'd hoped?" 

Crowley scrubbed a hand through his hair. He looked quite dazed. "Yes. No. Both? I hoped it would be good," he shivered a little, "but I didn't know it would be like _that_. That you could just...and I'd..." 

He waved his hand, as if that would somehow encompass the words he couldn't articulate. 

Aziraphale propped his chin on Crowley's chest. "Is it something you'd want to do again? For longer, perhaps?" 

Crowley groaned, and it rumbled delightfully through his chest. "Yes. I would. But it's...very intense. Not sure how often I could do it." 

"So it's like a rich piece of chocolate cake." Aziraphale traced idle patterns on Crowley's chest. "Delicious, but you can't have more than a few bites." 

Crowley made a noise that sounded affirmative. 

Aziraphale frowned and lifted his head. "Crowley, dear, are you falling asleep?" 

"Wha?" Crowley blinked. "Nooo. Just. Er. Just resting my eyes a bit."

He yawned wide enough that Aziraphale heard his jaw crack. He gave Crowley a very skeptical look. 

"Y'know, it's tiring, holding that for hours!" Crowley flapped his hand between them. "It's a lot! And you made me come three times. That'd make anybody need a nap." 

"You _did_ ask for it," Aziraphale reminded him, and he somewhat reluctantly moved off Crowley's chest, although it was only to pull Crowley close to him. "Go on, sleep for a bit." 

Crowley turned on his side and pressed his face to Aziraphale's chest. "Will you stay while I do?" 

Aziraphale kissed his sweaty hair and rubbed a hand over his back. "Of course, my dear. I'll stay as long as you'd like." 

"Don't make promises like that," Crowley murmured. "Might ask you to stay for a very long time." 

Aziraphale drew back and touched Crowley's chin, making him look up. "I'll stay as long as you'd like," he repeated, putting extra emphasis on the words. "Even if it's a very long time. I love you, dearest. I have for centuries and I will for longer still, beyond the end of time itself." 

It was not a promise most creatures could make. But Aziraphale could, and he would, so he did. 

Crowley's eyes widened briefly, and then he buried his face in Aziraphale's chest once again. He said nothing, but he clutched at Aziraphale's back as though he were loath to let go.

Aziraphale stroked his back again, quietly memorizing every inch of skin there. "I do apologize for making you uncomfortable," he whispered. "But I spent so very long holding back what I felt for you. I don't want to hold back any more. I want you to know, always know, how impossibly dear you are to me." 

"I know," Crowley croaked. His voice sounded suspiciously thick. "I know, angel. I love you, too." 

Aziraphale's heart lifted at the words, so full he felt the tears pressing at his eyes, and he hid his face in Crowley's hair. "I know, my dear. You show me every day." 

That was how he knew—not just because he felt Crowley's love, although he certainly could, but because even if Crowley rarely said the words, he said it each and every day with his actions. Even something like this—asking Aziraphale to lock with him—was a sign of love and trust from a being who did neither lightly. And Aziraphale cherished both beyond measure, almost as much as he cherished Crowley himself. 

He smiled into Crowley's hair and snuggled into the bed. They may no longer have been locked together physically, but then, Aziraphale didn't need to be. Crowley had always had his heart, and it locked them together just as surely.

**Author's Note:**

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